A Point on a Map: Honorable Mention, Sandy Crimmins Poetry Prize

Pull yourself together, sky.  Listen up!

It’s not like you’ve been buried alive.

Everything is new to a new baby.

Red mourning happens in Acts 1 and 2.

 

More and more tree curtains and grasses bar entry. The tundra smells of new cars.

Try to tell the truth, for once.

Keep your eyes glued to the road.

They say, you can’t watch the same movie twice.

 

Yesterday clouds spread across the ceilings of a series of movie sets.

The impulse is still there: Leave this country. Everything is not your fault.

That old shadow shows up like a new song cycle or the history of tango.

There are green, gem-like islands dotting our wide river.

No one gets a paycheck. A sixth sense: I’ll never see him again.

 


Valerie Fox’s books of poems include The Glass Book (Texture Press, 2011), The Rorschach Factory (Straw Gate Books, 2006) and Bundles of Letters Including A, V and Epsilon (a compilation with Arlene Ang, Texture Press, 2008). Recently she published Poems for the Writing: Prompts for Poets (Texture Press, 2013), co-written with Lynn Levin. Her poems have appeared in Juked, Hanging Loose, Painted Bride Quarterly,Apiary, Ping Pong, and other journals. 

Big Mama’s: Runner Up, Sandy Crimmins Poetry Prize

The day is made up of language the way

everything is made up of something else.

The way from the street the woman

in the window of Big Mama’s wearing

a Spiritual Gangster t-shirt, waiting for her

burrito, writing in a notebook is writing

I love you all, I imagine, because,

spiritually speaking, I love you all

is gangster, even if it can only be true

in a limited way.  In a limited way, I can

imagine believing in this slogan as metaphor,

and if so, I imagine I might feel moved to stop

and to say to the woman that on certain days

I too feel like a scribbler waiting for my

spiritual burrito to be ready, and we might

commune, without irony, over the cosmic

rightness of this comparison.  It’s hard

to love everybody, we might say knowingly.

Yeah, but don’t you also sometimes feel,

she might ask, like a gangster waiting

for your spiritual burrito to be ready and ready

or not you’re going to get up and fucking

take what’s yours, spiritually speaking?

You know, sometimes I do, I can imagine

myself saying, while feeling concerned

that our meaning-making has gone too far.

How do you make a slogan yours?

I would want to ask her. Is this language

permanently you?  How do you choose?

She would be clearly concerned

at my flimsy commitment to our motto.

I imagine I shouldn’t have stopped.

It is hard to love everybody, I might say again,

before I left her to her burrito and notebook.

The stream of language that makes up the day

hurries on, sweeping the woman and her t-shirt

away, sweeping away me. I don’t resist.

 


Patrick Swaney lives in Athens, OH, where is completing a PhD in poetry. He is the editor of Quarter After Eight. His work has appeared in Conduit, Indiana Review, The Southeast Review, and elsewhere.

Ascension Day Planting, North Philly: Runner Up, Sandy Crimmins Poetry Prize

           “God does what she wants.

            She has very large tractors.”

            – Robert Bly

It is the first time Jesús has planted, and

his haircut is on backwards.  His eyes are

little birds, hinged at the wings.  His hands

spend their days combating eagerness.

Give him a shovel.  Give a boy with poking eyes

an extra hand to carve his name in dirt.

Some boy’s house fell into its own pit here

and made hole-homes for rat-friends,

for pawned treasures and secrets that never

got redeemed.  Jesús can make time with a shovel.

Make it march backward.  Stand on its head.

Do tricks.  Blink back nobodies.  Earth is a bag

to hold heaven, and Jesús is a hole’s best friend.

Big sister Milly (one leg over the fence into babies,

the other still in diapers), hands him a tomato

with its web roots of tiny feathers.  It is a small

bird fallen out of heaven.  It is a troubling

miracle, that rests a moment in Jesús’ palm,

cupped between the thumb and the dirty nails,

until his knee bends, his hands

swoop down, and his fingers

release it to freshly drug earth.

 


Patrick Cabello Hansel has published poems, stories and essays in over 30 anthologies and journals, including Hawai’i Pacific Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, subprimal, The Ilanot Review, Ash and Bones, Switchbackand Lunch Ticket. His poem “Quitting Time” was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. His novella Searching was serialized in 33 issues of The Alley News.

The Rules: Runner Up, Sandy Crimmins Poetry Prize

I don’t believe in girlhood. I don’t believe

we are ever small, or ever don’t know what it is

we shouldn’t know. I don’t believe thick minutes in July

crept any closer to the ground than on the tennis court

at Hidden Creek Country Club, where sky-browned Tony

with eyebrows bleached bright from the sun, strapped me

at the end of our lesson into an elastic harness

anchored by the chain link fence, net running across the court

like a hard spine, my sisters on the other side, and

Eyebrows on his knees, adult arms around me, taking as long as he wanted

to snap the clasps in place. He’d back up, yell

Serve! to Meggie or Neena and I ran to them,

slapped backward by its quick yank

at my waist and home later, Meggie, four years younger

so I guess she was seven, says Courtney, Tony has a cwush on you—said it

in that lisp of hers we laughed about

two days ago watching home footage, our mother behind the camera

laughing too, our mother like a shapely soda bottle

with lipstick at the rim, our mother who played Patsy Cline so often

that there Meggie was, singing Cway-thee, eyes nuclear

and luminous, never breaking contact with the camera. We do nothing now

but sing it like she did then. Play it in the morning

on our way to summer jobs at the Club, where she flips burgers

by the pool and I bring beer around to golfers

wearing left-handed gloves that hide their wedding rings.

Every time I pass the cabana, Meggie’s bent over the counter texting

her boyfriend in a boxy uniform she calls unsexy

as hell, thank God, and every time I leave her it’s to bend into

the cart to find a Modelo for Mr. Richards who likes

my little shorts, he says, who likes sunflower seeds, spitting

them diagonally between sentences, who calls me best

in the business, says, we were all talkin ‘bout you today, ‘bout how

you know the rules so well, meaning I’m quiet, unlike

Barbara, who wears khaki pants and drives her cart

like a demon banshee in heat, plowin’ right up there when we’re teein’ off,

and between the 12th and 13th hole I drive the path

along that tennis court where even at eleven I was barely

there, my ribcage the circumference of a Folgers coffee tin

and Tony was lifting my shirt to put his hand

on the harness’ angry red marks, asking if it hurt, and no,

I’d say, it feels like nothing, it felt like nothing at all.

 


pa is from Virginia and holds an MFA from Columbia University. Her poetry has received awards and distinctions from Best New Poets, Poets & Writers Magazine, Rattle, The Atlantic, North American Review, and elsewhere.

Towels at Sunset: Winner, Sandy Crimmins Poetry Prize

They must bear no stain,
they must come perfect

 

from the dryer–cotton
fresh from Turkey, bright

 

olive stripes, or amber
ones, or blue.  They must bear

 

no crease, must take the folds
from my hands obediently,

 

tags tucked underneath them
like the legs of calves,

 

as meek as sheep.  They
must limn the linen chest like poppies,

 

coral and gold, or else the pale green I like
in bowls of roses on the table, or

 

the blue of hydrangeas, a bit
mysterious, shadowing the wood

 

when I open the doors.  They must
conform, conform now to my vision

 

of perfection, because my father
would wipe himself with one

 

when he was done with me,
and I remember.  Love,

 

when I see you again,
will you forgive my trespasses?

 

I am hell to live with for a reason.

 


Robin Kozak was born in Chicago, Illinois and grew up in Wyomissing, a bedroom community outside Reading, Pennsylvania.  She received degrees from Ohio University and the Creative Writing Program at the University of Houston, and her poems have appeared in Antioch Review, Black Warrior Review, Crazyhorse, Field, The Gettysburg Review, Hotel Amerika, Indiana Review, North American Review, Poetry Northwest, Witness, and other publications.  An authority on antique and estate jewelry, she has also recently completed a novel, The Kingdom It Would Be. 

Holiday Card 2015: The Story Behind the Photo

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This image, which appeared on our holiday greeting card, is by Kevin Hogan, a native Philadelphian whose work involves the use of his iPhone and mobile image software in a process called app smashing. He submitted this photograph, titled “Mercer Oak,” for the holiday card because of its historical connection to the season. This large white oak tree stood on the site of the Battle of Princeton, fought on January 3, 1777, where British soldiers surrendered shortly after Washington’s crossing of the Delaware River. The 300-year old tree fell in March 2000, and in May 2000, an 8-foot sapling grown from a Mercer Oak acorn was planted inside the stump of the former tree.

Q&A with Chapters 10-13 Authors

How did you get on board with “Naked Came the Cheesesteak?”

Shaun Haurin: The lovely and talented author Kelly Simmons is an old friend, and she tipped off the editors to my existence.

Mary Anna Evans: I came to the Cheesesteak family through a circuitous chain of connections. I had recently moved to the Philadelphia area to study for an MFA in creative writing at Rutgers-Camden. A friend from Florida introduced me to a friend of hers who had recently graduated from Rutgers-Camden, but who is now in a PhD program in Tennessee. He heard that Mitch Sommers was looking for Philadelphia-area authors for a collaborative novel. Mitch and I got in touch and shook hands on the deal, electronically speaking. Because there is always a significant lag time in publishing–Great writing takes time!–and because I was scheduled to write the last chapter, I had graduated and taken a job at the University of Oklahoma by the time I wrote my installment.  And all this multi-state activity took place by email, yet resulted in a pretty cool book, if I do say so myself.  Amazing!

Don Lafferty: I can’t remember if Tori or Kelly Simmons approached me first, but when I heard they were on board, along with my good friends, Merry Jones and Gregory Frost, I was honored that they’d thought of inviting me to be part of the project.

Diane Ayres: Accidentally. I was at the annual Xmas Writer’s Party which my husband and I co-host for our fellow writer friends and acquaintances every year who don’t work in offices. We all miss out on those wild parties, so we have our own,( although it’s relatively tame). It was December 2014, and I was catching up with my old pal Greg Frost at the party when Merry Jones approached, and they started telling me about the serial novel they were writing with eleven other local writers. They mentioned that one of the writers had dropped out recently. Since I just happened to be standing there, they were both way too kind and polite to let me feel like the odd author out, so they asked if I would I be interested in doing a chapter. I was well into my second martini so I said “sure!”

 

Tell me a little about the characters and story in your chapter.

Shaun Haurin: Without giving too much away, my chapter is a character study of Detective Chelsea Simon’s restaurateur husband, Arturo.  He’s about to open yet another new restaurant and is contemplating the wisdom of such a decision the night before Halloween.  He also has his Uncle Bull on his mind (the eatery’s namesake) as well as the recent death of his mistress, Chelsea’s colleague on the police force.  Needless to say, it’s not an especially enjoyable evening for him (though I hope it’s enjoyable for the reader!).

Mary Anna Evans: By the time the manuscript rolled around to me, the setting had moved to a completely new city. None of the previous chapters had been set there, and I’ve never been there. The character list was down to two, unless I wanted to stop the narrative action by plunking them on a plane and sending them home to Philly.  Thank you, Warren dear, for that little curve ball.

Don Lafferty: I can’t. My chapter is a spoiler. This also gets me out of public readings.

Diane Ayres: Unfortunately, I’m incapable of telling “a little” about anything, as the audacious length of my chapter demonstrates. For this, I can only beg the forgiveness of my worthy peers and fellow Cheesesteakers. But a serial writer’s gotta do what a serial writer’s gotta do. And in my defense … There was a lot going on in chapters one through ten, with many entertaining characters and plot twists and turns, but it was a little short on any pending resolution. With only two more chapters to go, I felt a great deal of responsibility to braid some of those loose threads together. I did my best to work in some aspect or element of every chapter, although I did not succeed with a couple that were self-contained—not that there’s anything wrong with that. There were quite a few narrative points of view, including Nathanial Popkin’s chapter in the first person, which added another refreshing dimension and perspective. Randall Brown picked up on the voice in one of his scenes in Chapter 9, which I felt was the perfect set up for me to carry it on and give it a name, Steven Barr.

My opening CNN scene was purely satirical because I decided that the only way to handle all of those dead bodies and unanswered questions was to take it over the top, making all of that confusion a seemingly intentional and integral part of the plot. In addressing the absurdity in that first scene, the following scenes would seem more plausible, by comparison—more real. The “realest” scene being the conversation between Ben and Chelsea at Dirty Frank’s—which was my take on Nathaniel Popkin’s dive bar of relevant and/or irrelevant characters. (And also nostalgic because it’s in my old hood.) I also felt the need to flesh out at least two major characters, who had been emerging as a potential love interest all along whether on purpose or unconsciously. These two were always clashing in chapters from the get-go, out of proportion to the problems—protesting a little too much, I thought, which could only mean one thing. They were hot for each other. This revelation afforded me the opportunity to have them meet privately so I could work in some crucial plot points and explanations while also slipping in a sex scene, such as it is, a gritty make-out moment behind Dirty Frank’s. (I don’t know about other readers, but I need a love interest in a novel to hold my interest.)

As for Steven Barr, I thought he needed something in his background to explain all of that deviant, homicidal, sociopathic, domestic terrorist kind of behavior, so I had a field day with the Freudian stereotypes, as well as the neurobiological psychiatric updates (i.e. genetic implications of having a clinically depressed father who committed suicide). I even threw in a warped Hitchcock joke: “Mother’s” waspy blonde hair that turns out to be a wig—perhaps even a wig made out of Mother’s hair before she lost it to cancer. How creepy is that? Yes, of course, my take on Steven Barr borders on camp, but it was also a chance to pick up on another, more serious undercurrent in the novel. The one wherein certain writers out of thirteen do a little riffing on the nature of being writers in the subtext. From Greg Frost’s satirical portrayal of the journalist—“journo”—as buffoon, Vincent “Pants” De Leon, at the Pen & Pencil Club in Chapter 3, to Steven Barr declaring the difference between fiction and nonfiction writers. And in the final scene, journalist Ben Travers insists he is incapable of writing fiction while also denigrating the fiction writers he envies for sitting around in their underwear all day making stuff up.

 

How did you go about writing your chapter now that the story’s coming to a close?

Shaun Haurin: I left the rollicking plot lines to the mystery-writer professionals and in effect hid behind my imaginary paisano.

Mary Anna Evans: As it turned out, these tight constraints sparked an idea that I think tied up the narrative tightly and unexpectedly. I believe all of us felt the tension between the story handed to us and our own plot ideas and our own style, but that’s not a bad thing.  Tension is inherent in any art. In fiction, it is what drives the story forward. I got a real creative jolt when I saw what I was going to have to do to resolve this tale. It was fun.

Don Lafferty: I was traveling, and so unable to attend when the team met at Cordelia Biddle’s crib to discuss the premise of the story and map out the chapter assignments. Email summaries of that meeting made their way to me, but I still didn’t quite grasp the voice or tone toward which the group had decided to aim. When the project got underway and I finally read Kelly Simmons’ opening chapter, I became acutely aware that I was in for something completely different from any writing project I’d ever been part of. Since I had nine months before my chapter would have top be written, I decided to wait until all the chapters were written before I would read any more. When one of the contributors bailed right out after reading Kelly’s chapter, I had a real WTF moment. And then when, a few weeks later, Cordelia bailed out over the direction the book was headed in light of the Pope’s upcoming visit to Philadelphia, I began to wonder if I’d somehow consigned my immortal soul to the dark side. All the while the chapters came in month after month. And I let them pile up. When it was finally my turn to write, I read the book in one sitting, and then, with my mind completely blown, feeling totally inadequate to move the story forward in a meaningful way, thought about it for a couple of tortured weeks. Then I wrote it. Then I strung poor Mitchell and Mary Anna out for a couple of weeks more. Then I sent it.

Diane Ayres: [See answer above.]

 

What do you think of the story overall?

Shaun Haurin: [insert string of thumbs up and ecstatic eye-patched ghost emojis]

Mary Anna Evans: It’s creative and weird and fun and engrossing. It hangs together as a whole in a way that I never expected it could, coming as it did from thirteen very different brains.  It says a lot for the authors that the group was able to create together a work of art as large as a novel, while still staying true to themselves as individuals.

Don Lafferty: I think the story is an honest reflection of each author’s unique perspective on the city we all call home, seen through the lens of each one’s storytelling sensibility. As a movie I see it as possibly, the Coen brothers’ first chick flick.

Diane Ayres: It’s a lot of fun.

 

What have you taken away from this experience? Did it meet your expectations?

Shaun Haurin: It was great fun! As someone who’s become conditioned to working (and receiving criticism) alone, I highly recommend getting a dozen other people to help write your next novel!

Mary Anna Evans: I take a lot of satisfaction from the finished product, and that’s particularly true because I wrote the summing-up chapter. While the other chapters were being written, I lived for months with worries like “What if there’s no way to make this thing internally consistent, much less fun to read?” More to the point, I worried that I personally wasn’t up to the task. I got a huge rush on behalf of all thirteen of us when I typed the last line. I’m grateful to have had the experience of working with everybody involved.

Don Lafferty: I went into this without expectations, that is, I knew this would be a learning experience, so I was going open to wherever my collaborators led me. Little did I know that it would turn me upside down, shake me up creatively and teach me to jump off a whole new ledge in my personal journey as a writer. And like every piece of writing I’ve ever delivered to an editor, I am reminded in the process, that while I know what I like, I don’t know the first thing about good writing.

Diane Ayres: It was a fascinating meeting of the minds and methods of fiction writers, and also good for me to share a creative experience, because I have always been exceedingly isolated in my work, and it’s good for me to get out occasionally. In regard to expectations I had none, but I would like to add that initially I made light of Greg and Merry being accidentally trapped into asking me to join the project, but it was, in all seriousness, a great honor and pleasure to participate. And I hope my effort didn’t disappoint.

 

Q&A with Chapters 7-9 Authors

How did you get on board with “Naked Came the Cheesesteak?”

Randall Brown: I wish I remembered, but ever since I turned fifty this year, my memories have begun fading. In any case, I’m so thrilled that we found each other. I’m a huge fan of PS Books!

Nathaniel Popkin: I have trouble saying no….no, really, I thought it would be fun to write under a completely different set of circumstances than what I am used to, and to work with these excellent writers.

Warren Longmire: I’ve been tangentially connected to Philadelphia Stories for years through my time as editor at Apiary Magazine and have recently been on a panel or two they held at Rosemont College. Though my focus is on poetry, I had done some fiction in the past and was intrigued by the chance to jump back in. I’m happy to have a chance to represent North Philly, my birth place, among the panel of writers.

 

Tell me a little about the characters and story in your chapter.

Randall Brown: I focused on one of the detectives in the story and her search for the murderer and his/her weapon(s) of choice. That search leads her through the icy city streets on the first winter strom of the year. Also I had been in the middle of a binge of CRIMINAL MINDS, so I think that show influenced my chapter a lot, especially the desire to profile characters.

Nathaniel Popkin: My character is the killer, who in the imaginative framework of my chapter is the writer. He is in hiding and seems to be seeking revenge on someone. Or not—it may be hard to tell. I just was interested in playing with some concepts, particularly those having to do with authorship and the wall between word and story, story and reality. With a book written by a chain of writers, the process really is the thing. So why not acknowledge it in the fiction itself?

Warren Longmire: My chapter attempts flesh out some back-story on Chelsea, the lead investigator in the murders and introduces are father Howard. The last we saw her, she had pretty brutally beat down a suspect (and incidentally, the only other black character in the novel) in the killing from Strawberry Mansion, a neighborhood in Philly not far from where I grew up. There was then a detour into a new, suspected mysterious character in West Philly hinted at being involved. I wanted to give nods both to this new development in the plot and explore what would make a black women from a hood-tinged area of a city become a police officer, let alone to participate in police brutality.

 

What are your thoughts on the direction of the story so far now that we are mid-way through the novel? 

Randall Brown: It has more ups and downs than a paper route in Manayunk.

Nathaniel Popkin: I just hope that the reader is rooting for the writer.

Warren Longmire: Lots of twists right? SUCH MISDIRECTION! The previous chapter in particular through much doubt into where the investigation was heading.

 

What was your writing process like?

Randall Brown: I am a very, very short fiction writer who primarily focuses on flash fiction, stories under 1000 words. So I think having to write a single chapter of a novel was a good experience for my own foray into longer forms. I approached it by writing the chapter in bite-sized chunks.

Nathaniel Popkin: I paced around my office, which is around a half wall/bookcase from my bed. I finally sat down. For some reason the idea of a New Yorker Magazine holiday party appeared in my head (not that I would know what such a party is like). I went from there. By the end of the day, I figured that the rest of the writers were going to come to my house and do a little cheesesteak number on me. So I was hesitant to press send. Then I did and no one showed up, so I went back around the wall and went to bed.

Warren Longmire: I tend to stick to place and image in my writing. Quiet moments draw me in and help to set the scene. Finally, I have a strong connection to the music of the language in my writing. The most difficult part of this project (in addition to sticking the word limit) was using these techniques in the service of my characters.

 

How do you feel about writing a serial novel? Is it challenging particularly because the novel is a murder-mystery?

 Randall Brown: It was a challenge, because every chapter that preceded mine changed my own views about what my own chapter should tackle. As I wrote my chapter, to be very honest, I still had no clue who had done it.

Nathaniel Popkin: I have no idea what I’m doing being part of mystery-thriller, or whatever this is. Not my territory. So I was afraid, really afraid. Frankly, I’m not even sure anyone knows what to do with my chapter. Will they ignore it? Reader, feel free to skip right over!

Warren Longmire: YES. Even when I did write fiction, it was never genre. I’d enjoyed the process, though, and am excited to see the results.

Q&A with Chapters 4-6 Authors

How did you get on board with “Naked Came the Cheesesteak?”

Kelly McQuain:  Mitch, the editor approached me. We’ve known each other since doing our MFA at the University of New Orleans. It had been a long while since I wrote a fiction project. I’ve been working in poetry and essays these last few years, and though I was a little shy at first I decided this might be a fun way back into writing fiction. It was.

Victoria Janssen: Greg Frost brought me on board, when one of the other writers cancelled. Greg and I used to be in a workshop together.

Tony Knighton: Christine Weiser got me involved.

Tell me a little about the characters and story in your chapter.

Kelly McQuain:  I wrote chapter 6, and it seemed each chapter that came before introduced a lot of new characters. I wanted to bring back or mention as many characters as I could so that there would be a sense of continuity and development. That’s what I like in books with large casts, to see the way the characters’ stories weave in and out of those around them. As this was near the midpoint of the novel, I thought it was important to do so. Of course, to pull this off I had to add a new character that I hoped a later writer might further develop. Arhsad is his name, a college student who sheds some light on the backstories of some of the other victims. I also wanted to add more diversity in terms of race and sexual identity.  I was delighted to have an opportunity  to also flesh out Josh, the food truck owner whose truck is where the initial murder happens. He’s mentioned in chapter 1, but he had been kept off-stage. And, of course, his girlfriend Angela had to reappear. In terms of tone, I tried to be consistent with chapter 1, that this was a comic murder mystery, both a satire and an affectionate peaen to the City of Brotherly Love.  I also wanted to pin down the passage of time during the fall term, so I set this chapter just before Halloween with a note to my collaborators that I hoped the upcoming holiday might make a good backdrop for a later chapter.

Victoria Janssen: My new characters were Olive Norvell and Laurel Gutierrez, police sidekicks for Chelsea Simon, the detective. I based their personalities very loosely on Laurel and Hardy; their main purpose was to serve as comedic foils. Given where my chapter fell, I thought it would be a good idea to sum up some of the previous action and create a bridge to later events, while working in another death. Greg had mentioned he’d created “Pants” to be a murder victim, so I obliged!

Tony Knighton: It seemed to me that the story was running away; I wanted to bring it back around to Angela (I liked her character).  I had used Mickey and Mrs. DeSantis in another story and thought them perfect for something happening Downtown.

Did you read the previous chapters before writing yours? How has this serial novel structure influenced your writing? 

Kelly McQuain:  Of course! I would have felt like I was being disrespectful to the hard work of the other writers if I hadn’t done so, and I would not have benefited from the seeds they had lain. What was useful to me was the meta-data the editors and other writers helped generate, so that I could more easily track characters and happenings. A project like this is fun for the wildly different approaches you see in what gets turned in, but to me it also emphasizes that for my own writing projects the importance of timelines, plot diagrams, and outlines to the cohesion of the work. This project, by it’s nature, breaks the rules in a fun way, but at the same time it served for me as a reminder of why those rules are there to begin with.

Victoria Janssen: I did read the previous chapters before beginning to write. I tried to make my chapter build structurally on what went before while providing a launch point for succeeding chapters. I didn’t make any attempt to match styles, because I figured the different authorial voices were a feature, not a bug.

Tony Knighton: Of course I read the previous chapters, and liked them a lot. If this exercise has influenced my writing I’m not aware of it.

What have you noticed about writing for a serial novel and how it influenced the overall story?

Kelly McQuain:  I had to make peace with the fact that the set-ups and characters I liked the most wouldn’t necessarily be embraced by later writers, who steered the ship in their own direction. A serial novel is not going to be as tight or as streamlined as an Agatha Christie novel. The fun lies in the diversity of approaches. I think what the overall novel becomes is a portrait of how 13 writers see Philadelphia at this moment in time. My favorite parts are how we satirize the city, how we critique its legal system and the exploitation of adjuncts on campuses throughout the city. How we poke fun at beloved low-brow cuisine like the cheesesteak as well as at Philly’s restaurant renaissance. How we even poke fun at the genre of mystery writing itself when the novel takes a possibly meta turn. A huge amount of geographical territory is also covered in the book. There are scenes at Kelly Writers House at Penn, at the Drexel Dragon, at Community College of Philadelphia and at Temple. Rittenhouse Square, South Philly, Strawberry Mansion, and so many other places also make appearances. The novel’s definitely a portrait of the city’s people and its places.

Victoria Janssen: I discovered how very useful it can be to keep a list of characters and their salient characteristics. I had done a couple of round robins before, so I was prepared for later authors to radically depart my expectations for the story.

Tony Knighton: I haven’t yet read the subsequent chapters; I want to read the story all at once.

Were you surprised at the direction any of the characters you wrote or created were taken by other writers, or did other writers express surprise at the direction you took with your characters?

Kelly McQuain:  Merry, who wrote chapter 2, expressed surprise when I read at our launch party  that I turned one of her characters gay. “No, Merry,” I playfully told her, “he was gay all along. Deep down in your sub-text.” The truth is, her character’s sexuality had not been clearly established, so I saw it as an opportunity to surprise the reader. Isn’t that what we try to do as writers? Just when a reader thinks they have everything pinned down, the writers shows them something new that deepens the story. Good old “recognition and reversal.” I’ll add that as a queer person myself, I do not operate under the de facto assumption that most of the world does, that all people are straight until proven otherwise. That’s a perspective and sensitivity I could bring to the mix, and probably one of the reasons Mitch wanted me on board.

I was less surprised by the direction in which my characters were taken (and other people’s) than I was in my desire to still want to know more about them by the novel’s end.  Several of these characters are interesting enough to drive their own books. One of the things that surprised me was that a project designed to be set in Philadelphia would ultimately end up somewhere else. But as for where… well, dear readers, you will just have to read and see.

Victoria Janssen: I haven’t finished reading the whole novel yet!

Tony Knighton: See [previous answer], and no.